In 1956 I quit my job, threw everything I owned into my '55 Chevy BelAir, drove to Miami, stored the car, and flew to Puerto Rico.

Why Puerto Rico?

Well, I've always been enamored of things Latin American, and had hoped to one day be able to live in a Spanish-speaking country.

Also, I had read that there was a lot of new development going on in Puerto Rico and that new businesses were popping up all over the place, due in part to the favorable treatment they got from US tax laws.

Beyond that, I had no steady girl friend to keep me in California — so off I went. I left the car stored in Miami and flew to San Juan to look around and size things up. Well, the second night I was there I decided to look for a place to go dancing, and soon found a night club that catered to locals, rather than to the tourist trade.

As was often the case in my younger dancing days, I soon found myself being looked over by the local ladies because of my obviously Gringo appearance. Four of them were sitting in a booth on the other side of the room, and I was wondering which one I should ask to dance.

Well, the decision was made for me when one walked over and sat down at my table.

"So where you from?" she asked, giving me a quizzical look. I told her, and she continued with, "So what you doing here?" When I told her what I had in mind she asked, "So why you come to this night club? You're looking for a woman — right?"

"Well," I replied, "I did hope to meet somebody to dance with."

"Okay," she said. "Let's dance."

So we did. Well, we danced and had a few drinks, and the evening seemed to be going well. But there was an air of possessiveness about Marta that was beginning to make me uneasy.

Finally, she said, "Okay — time to go."

"Go?" I asked. "Go where?"

"Your place," she said. "Your hotel — wherever you staying."

Well, I'd be lying if I said my youthful hormones weren't bubbling over at the prospect of having this seductive, although somewhat pushy, young woman go back to the hotel with me.

When we entered my room she paused, looked around, and then tested the firmness of the mattress by sitting on it and bouncing a few times. She smiled approvingly, said, "OK, fine," and then began to undress.

Well, this is what I thought I wanted — but things were moving so fast I was in a state of mild shock as I just stood and watched.

"You gonna stand there all night?" she asked, as she lied down on her back with her knees slightly parted.

"I wasn't really expecting this," I said, "and I don't have any — you know — protection.

"You let me worry about that," she replied. "Now get naked and come here!"

So I did. I had assumed there would be some foreplay, but she grabbed me and literally yanked me into her. Well, I don't want to be too graphic, but suffice it to say it was a very wild ride. Then we took a shower and went to sleep.

I don't know how long we slept, but I remember being awakened by her crawling on top of me and saying, "Wake up — time to do it again."

"Well, OK," I thought, "then I'll call a cab and send her home."

However, in the heat of passion, it was easy to put off thoughts of sending her home.

When I woke up, Marta was sitting in a chair looking at me. She smiled and said, "I'm hungry. How 'bout you?"

"Yeah," I said, "I guess so," still not completely awake.

"OK," she said, "there's a café a few doors down the street. Tell them you want two orders of arroz con pollo, calle."

"Calle? Calle means street."

"You think I don't know that? It also means you take the food with you."

"Oh, you mean to go."

"Right — calle — and some café con leche."

"Uh, why don't we go together and eat at the café?"

"I don't got nothing to wear. Now hurry up. I'm hungry."

"OK," I said. "Calle?"

When I returned Marta smiled and said, "Let's eat. Then we go back to bed."

"Back to bed? Well, I have things to do — places to go."

"What — you don't like having sex with me? What you gonna do when you get married and your wife wants sex every day?"

Well, this left me momentarily speechless. However, I was finally able to point out that I had come to Puerto Rico to look into business possibilities.

"You got plenty of time for that. You stay here with me now."

When I tried to argue the point, she said, "Hey — you're with me! And if I see you look at another woman, I kill you." For emphasis she removed a stiletto from her purse that she had previously shown me, when she explained how she carried it for security.

That was enough for me. I sneaked out that night while she was sleeping and never looked back. I also decided it might be better to start a business back in Southern California — which I eventually did.